Vita Detestabilis
by Cat Lady Murmur
Summary: Sirius Black: Convicted Psycopath and Diabolical Turncoat. A (semi) quick glimpse into the "detestable life" of the Prisoner of Azkaban.


A/N: Hello again. ^-^ Well, all you Sirius lovers out there, here's something to…uh…well, read. ^-^;;; I worked really hard on it, trying to make sure I captured him as best as I could, and I hope you all enjoy it. I made up his middle name, so if any of you know if he has one, please let me know! Questions/Comments/Fiery bricks through my bedroom window are appreciated…well, the last one isn't really, but you know, whatever. ^-^

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Vita Detestabilis

"Sirius Wolfgang Black, you get off the roof this instant!"

The young boy flinched at the sound of his middle name, but remained flat on his back. "Sirius isn't here!" he called down to his mother. "He's fast asleep in bed like a good boy!"

"Young man, I'm not playing games with you! Get down here right now or I'll…I'll disassemble that bike of yours!"

At this, Sirius sat up quickly and scrambled to the edge of the roof. Gripping the rain gutter firmly, he peeked over the side. That bike, while still only half assembled, was his prized possession. "You wouldn't!"

His mother stood below him, hands on her hips as she glared up at her son with fierce determination. "Don't test me."

"Aaaw, but _mum_--"

"No no! No whining, off the roof. Now."

Groaning, Sirius pulled himself the rest of the way over, hanging off the gutter for a moment before dropping to the ground. As the 14-year-old straightened up, his mother struggled to keep a stern façade. It was so hard to discipline her son sometimes. _Such a handful_, she thought. _So much like his father._

"How'd ya even know I was up there?" Sirius asked as he ran his fingers through his shaggy black hair, his lively green eyes like emeralds shimmering in the darkness. "I could've been out with…uh…friends."

"I'm your mother, I know everything."

Sirius laughed, forcing Ms. Black to frown at him.

"Oh c'mon mum--"

"Do you remember two years ago," she interrupted, "when little Janis Fox inexplicably sprouted a tail not a day after you two had a broomstick race through Eckaret Street?"

Sirius's smile fell. 

"You lost, didn't you," said Ms. Black matter-of-factly as she arched one elegant eyebrow.

"You…you knew?"

"You better _believe_ I knew."

"But how?"

"I told you," she said, "I'm your mother. I know everything."

"But--"

"And no one but you," she continued, "could have come up with something so…"

"Clever?" Sirius suggested somewhat proudly.

"Obvious," Ms. Black finished, and smiled. Her son was now grinning sheepishly at her, and she had lost her nerve. "Why were you on the roof, Sirius?"

Sirius shrugged. "Well since I've never done it before--"

"Let me rephrase that," said Ms. Black as she raised a finger to silence him. "Why were you on the roof _again_?"

For a moment, her son gaped at her as if she had just revealed a bombshell. He'd always been so careful to sneak up there without ever being caught, and here his mother had known the whole time! But he quickly recovered and said, "I was getting to that. I've never been up there when the sky was so clear before…is what I was going to say." 

His mother looked upwards, and saw that he was right, the night was brilliantly clear. The stars twinkled across the velvety fathoms of space, the constellations obviously becoming more and more prominent with each passing summer night. For a moment that seemed to last forever, Ms. Black was swept away in the sky's beauty.

"You can see Orion tonight," she murmured. "And look, there's Canis Major, and Sirius…"

"I knew a classy lady like you would be able to appreciate it!" said Sirius as he flashed her one of his most charming smiles. 

Ms. Black looked at her son from the corner of her eye and, bathed in pale moonlight, he suddenly looked very much like his father indeed. She turned to him completely, and for a moment the emotional tensions within her were restricting her voice. Sirius had been very young when Darius had died, but the similarities between the two were too much to bear sometimes, ranging from both physical and character attributes. Everything about Darius was there, the wildly stubborn black hair, the handsome narrow face, and even the charming smile that had won so many arguments in the end. Everything but the eyes. Sirius had the greenest eyes she'd ever seen on a child, and Ms. Black could tell that her son was going to be breaking a lot of hearts with them.

She reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind Sirius's ear, and he protested, "Aw c'mon mum, don't."

She smiled wanly at him. "If your father could see you now…"

Sirius's smile had begun to fade once more, and the light in his eyes flickered suddenly. "Don't start that again," he said, a sounding a bit more annoyed than he had intended.

Ms. Black sighed, and Sirius looked back to the stars pensively. It was just he and his mom. Ms. Black never remarried, nor had she wanted to. She had had her share of "Would you like to go out and have a drink?"s, and a few of them had apparently Disapparated upon learning about Sirius. But Sirius's mother didn't seem to have a problem with it. To an extent, she was content with only her son. However, his father's death was always there and Sirius knew he only helped to serve as a reminder that Darius Black had once lived. This in turn sometimes gave him the distinct impression that others were hoping Sirius would grow up to be an exact carbon copy and he hated it. He knew that his father had been a good man, but Sirius wasn't his father. He never planned on becoming anything in the Ministry of Magic and couldn't understand why someone would want such a stiff job anyway. No, he had bigger plans that that.

"He'd be so proud of you Sirius," she said softly as a cold breeze began to blow.

"You always say that," said Sirius, frowning. "What about the Janis Fox thing?"

Ms. Black shook her head sadly and tried to offer a smile. "He'd be proud that you'd actually pulled off such a difficult spell for your age." She paused. "He'd be proud of you no matter what. He'd love you just the same, just as I would. Just as I do."

She brushed his hair back one more time and kissed his forehead. "Don't stay out too long," she said as the breeze began to blow harder. "Goodnight Sirius."

And she walked back into the house, leaving Sirius alone out in the suddenly freezing summer night.

~*~

Slowly, he swam back to consciousness. Cold. Shivering. He relied on his body to tell him where he was, knowing his eyes would lie to him, or worse. Tell the truth. 

He was laying curled up on a hard stone floor that was beyond freezing, his tattered robes doing very little to shield him from the chilled surface. His entire body ached, as if he had suffered a rather long fall, and the air around him was thick, dank. There was only one place he could possibly be. 

"No," he whispered, curling up even more.

Soon the screaming reached him, the tortured yelps and shrieks of men driven slowly out of their minds, the horrible sobs of prisoners pleading for mercy. Only twice had he awakened and forgotten where he was. Trapped. Alone. Denied every happy thought or emotion he had once possessed. Soon he would not fear death, for Azkaban _was_ hell. Nothing could be worse. 

"Sirius Black!"

For a moment, Sirius ignored the disgusted loathing voice, thinking that it was perhaps another hallucination of some sort. A lot of people were disgusted by him, including himself, for something he didn't do. Not directly, anyway. But Sirius had long since learned that nobody was listening to his pleas of innocence. 

Craning his neck at what could have been an uncomfortable angle, Sirius looked up through the bars of his cell to see a squat man with a bowler hat standing there, scowling. Sirius scowled back and curled up again. "Can't you leave an innocent man to lose his mind in peace?" he growled, his own voice almost completely unrecognizable to him. 

"It's been twelve years, Black," said Cornelius Fudge. "If you haven't lost it yet, I'd say you're fit enough to be bothered."

"On the contrary," said Sirius as he began to hoist himself up off the floor, "I think it's beginning to slip at this very moment." Staggering slightly, he stood against the wall, and for a moment neither man said anything. Sirius tried to balance himself; Fudge shifted the newspaper he had been carrying to fit snuggly under one arm as he clasped his hands before him. 

"Well?" said Sirius at last. "Are you going to just stand there and wait for me to kill someone?"

Fudge's eyes glinted dangerously. "It's all a joke to you, isn't it Black," he said as he glared at the shadow of a man before him. "_Fifteen_ people are dead because of you--"

"Oh, so now it's fifteen!" Sirius interrupted, throwing his hands into the air. "Have I _murdered_ someone recently and everyone neglected to tell me?"

"--and you're in here laughing it up!" Fudge finished, his voice rising. His round face had turned a dangerous shade of red. "Are you forgetting the Potters?" he hissed.

Sirius narrowed his eyes as a dark feeling of shame rose from the pit of his stomach. "I didn't kill them," he rasped, well aware of what Fudge was going to say.

"No, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did. You _gave_ them to him."

Sirius had nothing to say to that and Fudge knew it. Sirius's stare, however, did not waver. "What do you want Fudge?"

Cornelius waved a hand negligently and said, "Simply making my inspections. I would have thought that someone with as many demons as you would have gone mad by now."

"Well, what can I say?" said Sirius dryly as he shrugged. "I'm just stubborn I suppose."

"Indeed," Fudge frowned condescendingly, as if the fact that Sirius was still sane was a tremendous insult.

After another silent pause, Sirius nodded to the paper under Fudge's arm. "Have you finished with that?"

Fudge raised an eyebrow. "I…beg your pardon?"

"_Have-you-finished-that_," Sirius repeated, enunciating every word. "Been awhile since I've done the crossword, and it'd be nice to have something to do until I'm reduced to jabbering mindlessly in the corner about the prices of cauldrons."

"Er…I suppose…"

Fudge offered the paper through the bars, and Sirius stepped forward to take the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from him. On the front page was a picture of a rather large family; a mother and father with one daughter and six sons, one of which had what appeared to be a rat perched on his shoulder. Apparently they had won a rather large sum of money and were spending it all in Egypt.

As he opened the paper, he saw Fudge look up the hall and shiver. The cold was coming and they both could feel it.

"What's wrong?" said Sirius as he struggled not to panic from the freezing cold that was starting deep within him. "Don't want to see how you're keeping everyone in line?"

Fudge shivered again and said, "I can't think of anyone who deserves these Dementors more…"

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Sirius muttered. 

"I also have a bit of news for you," said Fudge idly. "It seems that two weeks ago, Ms. Rosalyn Black was admitted to St. Mungo's…"

Sirius looked up from the paper as panic suddenly gripped him. "What?"

"She died yesterday," Fudge reported, his face as straight as the bars in front of him. 

Coldness unlike any other settled hard in his chest, and his knees threatened to buckle from shock. It felt as if he had been transported back to the night when he had found James and Lily…

__

Dead? But…it can't be… 

"H-…how?" he choked out, struggling to hide how much this news was paining him. She had been so healthy when he had seen her last…

"From _shame_ would be my guess," said Fudge pompously. "Imagine, her only son thrown into Azkaban for such a terrible crime, the poor woman…"

Sirius was shaking his head uncomprehendingly. "No…not possible…"

"I believe she was left to raise you all by herself?" Fudge continued as if he was talking about the weather.

"Shut up," Sirius growled, fighting with the voices in his head and trying to force out Fudge's taunts.

"I can only imagine _where_ she went wrong…"

"Stop it!"

"…or how much _shame_ you put her through--"

"ENOUGH!" Sirius roared as he threw himself against the cell's door, intent on grabbing Fudge by the neck and squeezing until the man couldn't speak anymore. Fudge jumped backwards just in time, and Sirius was left grasping the bars until his knuckles had turned a peculiar white. Too much was going through his mind. Too many words, sensations, memories…rage, denial, grief…

"One of these days," he whispered harshly. "One of these days you're going to know the truth, and you…you and all those hell-bent political…_zealots_ will look just as bad as Voldemort…"

Fudge flinched slightly, but refused to be offended. "It's been twelve years Black," he said cordially. "I think it's time you stopped pretending to be innocent, when we all know you aren't."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU KNOW!" Sirius shouted, infuriated, as Fudge began to walk away. "YOU'VE GOT IT ALL WRONG YOU PUDGY BASTARD! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

But Fudge's footsteps soon receded into nothing, and Sirius was left alone in his cell, screaming when he knew perfectly well that no one was listening. Just as it had always been. Slowly, he slumped to the floor, crushed, defeated, finally feeling his will to live slipping away from him. He was going to die here. No one believed him, and the last person to ever have faith in him through the past several years was gone…

__

Haven't seen her in so long…and now…

He slipped into a kind of stupor, his life flashing before his eyes. Things had been so easy as a child, as an adolescent…then as soon as adulthood struck things became…

__

Fucked…completely and utterly fucked up…

He'd lost all of his friends. James and Lily were dead…Remus believed what was said to be true…and Peter…

Peter.

Wormtail.

__

Rat on the boy's shoulder…

Sirius was suddenly lunging at the fallen newspaper and staring at the picture on the front page. The family (_The Weasleys…_) was smiling happily at the camera, two of the boys, twins, making faces behind one of their brothers who appeared to be about as uptight as Fudge. And the rat…

It was sniffing the air around it, constantly shifting on its paws so as to keep its balance in such a precarious position--

__

Its paws…it's front paw…

"It's missing a toe," he breathed, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Impossible…"

The rat looked at him, and tried to rise up on its haunches long enough to sniff the air above it, and Sirius saw that it was true, the rat was indeed missing a toe. Frantically, he scanned the footnote beneath the picture, and saw that 5 of the 7 children were attending Hogwarts, the rat boy included. Sirius barked a quick laugh, his eyes wide as he continued to study the rat, a feeling of extreme excitement and hope burning in his stomach. Soon the bark turned into a chuckle, which immediately turned into an all-out maniacal laugh that could be heard up and down the halls of Azkaban. 

"He's alive!" he shouted to no one as he jumped to his feet. "The son of a bitch is alive! Oh Peter you thought you had me!"

It was so diabolically brilliant, that for a fleeting moment Sirius forgot how he was going to murder Peter, and was in awe of the coward's cleverness. 

__

So after he killed everyone in the street, before anyone could see…

"He changed, he became a rat and slipped down into the sewers!" he whispered to himself, his thoughts coming more rapidly now. "Just like…so if he could still…that means that maybe _I_ could…"

The creeping coldness was starting again, but Sirius was too wrapped up in a psychotic ecstasy to really notice. He'd found him, he'd found the traitor, and Sirius was going to get him. Nothing could stop him from proving that he had been right all along. 

The Dementor was drawing near.

__

I'm going to get him…I was right…if only mum could see it…

Sirius was laughing again, and he could feel the coldness creeping into his chest. _Feeding off the happiness…I'm going to get him…going to get out of here…killed my mother, I…killed my mother? But…no…_

He was freezing once more, and it felt like a tremendous amount of pressure was being applied to his shoulders. The laugh was disintegrating into a dry sob as the Dementor soon approached the cell, it's long robes scraping across the stone floor, a hollow wind suddenly filling Sirius's mind.

"No!" he struggled to yell, clutching his head. "It wasn't me…it was…it…"

__

Peter…Peter did it, Peter…killed my mother…no…

He couldn't remember…but then…

__

I did it, I killed her…but Peter…

Sirius couldn't understand himself, and sank to the floor in desolation. "He's at Hogwarts!" Sirius moaned weakly. "He's…at…Hogwarts!"

The Dementor didn't care. Nobody cared. The hollow wind continued, and Sirius couldn't hear anything but _She's dead…she's dead…I killed her…_ He felt like his heart was about to stop, he felt like he was about to die right then, and he didn't care. But Peter…he was supposed to catch Peter. _But I killed her…_

He slipped back into the darkness. The silent, peaceful darkness.

~*~

**__**

He'd be so proud of you Sirius…

You always say that…after everything I've done…

****

He'd be proud of you no matter what. He loves you just the same. Just as I do.

Mum…

****

Don't stay out too long.

Don't go…

****

Goodnight, Sirius.


End file.
